by Mason, V. F.
But he never answered, so either he deleted my text without reading it or just blocked my number.
Probably both.
He picks up his suitcase and hurries out the door. I hear the loud thumping of his leather shoes on the stairs before he walks a bit more and reaches the main door.
He slams it shut, using so much force the walls shake from the intensity, while I continue to sit on the floor with tears coming as unbearable pain mixes with disappointment and anger. I’m shattered inside.
“No, Sebastian,” I whisper, rubbing my stomach and hoping my baby bean is okay in there despite the fact that Daddy doesn’t want to even listen to me long enough to know about the pregnancy. “It’s me who will never forgive you.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Herb’s voice makes me jump in place, pulling me from the flashback, as he comes closer, his eyes roaming over the counter with spilled whiskey. “Phoenix, your first day on the job and you’ve already wasted a bottle of whiskey for nothing?” His voice stays even, yet I detect traces of anger that he keeps muted, probably due to the two customers watching us closely.
Tracy mutters, “Oh shit.” But then she smiles brightly and steps between us, saying rapidly, “It’s not her fault, Herb. You see—” she starts, but his raised hand cuts her off.
He points at the table in the left corner where a few women are sitting, waving at us and tapping on their beer bottles, indicating they want another order of them. “Take care of them. Do not interfere.”
Tracy sends me a worried and apologetic glance but nods and dashes in the direction of the customers.
And I stand still, ready to hear him berate me in front of the two men who I despise the most.
And I thought this was a new beginning, a second chance?
Fate indeed has a twisted sense of humor if this is what she delivers after getting me out of prison. Maybe I should have just locked myself in that apartment and used the help Lydia offered me, even if it’s the coward way.
I blink in surprise though when Herb addresses the men instead of me. “Are you here to bring trouble? Why did my bartender drop the bottle of whiskey?”
He is actually… standing up for me?
Sebastian opens his mouth to reply, but Zachary beats him to it, finishing his drink and placing the glass back on the counter, tracing the rim of it with his finger. “I’m afraid that’s my fault. I kept asking for a refill and then slammed the glass too hard. I’ll pay for the bottle and leave a generous tip.”
Herb holds his stare for a second and then nods, checks Sebastian from head to toe, and then leans toward me, whispering in my ear, “If those two start trouble, let me know. I can ask Elvin to take care of them while they’re here.” According to Tracy, Elvin is a muscled guy Herb keeps around in case there is a brawl in the bar, and that his huge physique is intimidating enough for everyone to stop. I had a quick glimpse at the guy; his veins practically popped out of his hands and neck.
“Thank you,” I say, and he smiles at me gently, squeezes my shoulder, and walks off in the direction of his office.
Well, at least my boss is a decent guy who won’t fire my ass for this. I have to appreciate the small victories life is giving me.
I grab the washcloth and paper towels, wiping away the liquid and trying not to wince at the strong alcohol scent, almost breaking out in hives as I feel two sets of eyes stares at me in anticipation. The tension rises with each passing second, and I didn’t miss the animosity transferred between them just minutes ago.
For whatever reason, those two probably aren’t friends despite Sebastian taking their side. Which, shouldn’t it be weird? If he is their lawyer—Lydia mentioned that in passing as she was talking about my lost assets—Zachary must trust him enough to take care of their legal stuff.
Apparently not enough to like the guy.
Maybe he is one of those people who prefers to keep his enemies closer, having a watchful eye on them, and that’s why he’s here now?
“Phoenix,” Sebastian finally speaks up, and his voice almost has a wounding effect on me, slashing through my skin like the sharpest of knives, drawing blood from me drop by drop.
If I let him, there won’t be anything left of me.
But ignoring them and acting like they are just regulars won’t help, not with the two of them here together and wanting God knows what.
“I have nothing to say to you. So, unless you want a drink, please leave.” I mentally high-five myself for keeping my voice cold and indifferent, not showing them the turmoil their presence awakens inside me.
“We need to talk,” my ex-husband says, and I can’t help it; a hollow chuckle slips past my lips, echoing between us. I rein it in enough not to burst into laughter.
Laughter that brings misery instead of happiness.
“Funny, all I used to want was to talk to you. How many times did you listen, Sebastian?” I raise my gaze to him and see agony flashing in his eyes, his knuckles turning white by how hard he grips the edge of the counter, his pulse beating wildly in his neck.
Remorse is written all over his features, but oddly it doesn’t call out to anything in me.
Maybe because all the parts of me that used to feel compassion or mercy died when I was bleeding on the prison floor with my water breaking.
A death of a child can do that to a woman.
“Phoenix, please.”
“Please leave,” I repeat, ignoring the pleading in his voice and the small part of me that craves to hear his apologies. Craves to hear him say he was wrong and should have never abandoned me like he did.
I’ve imagined it so many times through the years, dreamed the world would find a magical explanation to this madness and grant me freedom while everyone would feel like shit for smearing me in dirt.
In all my dreams and nightmares alike, joy rushed through me all the time… along with pride and satisfaction.
Now though?
Only sadness is present along with annoyance, because I can’t stand looking at him without thinking what a fool I had been for loving this man a long time ago.
Loving someone in general really. Life in foster care should have taught me to never trust anyone but myself. I would have saved myself from a lot of things then.
Live and learn.
“The lady doesn’t want to talk to you, Hale. So get the fuck out of here.”
I pause at Zachary’s words, surprised he is taking my side on this, but resume wiping the counter and grab the bottle, throwing it in the bin next to me while wondering what his agenda is.
Clearly, it’s not humiliating me or dishing some kind of revenge once again, because he wouldn’t have protected me from Herb or Sebastian just now. So, what does he want?
I will never believe he is here to apologize like Sebastian; Zachary King is just not wired that way, according to the many reports I read on him before prison.
Ruthless billionaire who always gets what he wants, even if the whole world is against it.
A shark always going for the kill if he wants to win.
That’s his reputation, and my case proved how right it is.
“And you think she wants to talk to you? Don’t you think she’s had enough of you?” Sebastian asks with disbelief in his tone as he tugs on his tie, jerking it open to gulp a deep breath. “This doesn’t concern you anyway. So how about you leave?”
Zachary chuckles, leans over the counter, and snatches another bottle of whiskey. He flicks it open and pours himself a generous amount once again. Does he plan to get wasted or what? He replies, his tone stone-cold yet hot in its intensity, “I’m not the ex-husband who left her and then got engaged to my sister. How is she by the way? Does she know you came here the minute your ex got out of prison? I bet Felicia would love to hear that.” The way he says it, though, implies differently.
But then the full meaning of his words dawns on me, and it hits me so hard I sway a little to the side but grip the counter for safety.
Engag
ed to his… sister?
As in the Kings?
The Kings who destroyed my life…? He went out and got engaged to one of them? Wanted to build a life with Zach’s sister while I died every single day of my life?
Of the millions of women on this planet, he had to choose Felicia King?
“‘I will love you forever, Phoenix,’” I say, freezing both of them. “‘Even if you die, I’ll never find another.’” I laugh a little or otherwise I might burst into tears, which is insane really. What changed? I suspected before he probably found someone else; men like him don’t stay single long, but this… I didn’t expect this. “Unless you are charged with murder. Then fuck you and my promises,” I add, mentally begging myself to stop this, because I’m starting to sound like a doormat.
I don’t even need his love or want it anymore, even if he threw it at my feet right now. But still, this knowledge, the fact that he got engaged again, hurts in a way I didn’t expect.
Zachary watches me intently as I dish out these words while Sebastian’s head swings toward me, regret crossing his face. “Phoenix, it’s not like that. I just…. I….” He casts his gaze down, cursing. “Fuck.” And then he meets my stare again, so many emotions flicking through his eyes, and I give them right back. His voice shakes a little. “I fell in love.” He leans on the counter, breathing heavily as if each word tears out of his throat and he speaks them with difficulty. “Never wanted to after you. But I did. I’m sorry.” For a second, I see the old Sebastian who wasn’t just my husband, but also my best friend who could share anything with me.
A good son to his mother, good friend and boss to his coworkers. A great addition to any group of friends for his amazing sense of humor and a genuine person who took care of his elderly neighbor’s lawn because she couldn’t.
The Sebastian who was always honest, even if he knew the truth might hurt other people. He despised lies ever since his father cheated on his mom. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t believe me; he saw the whole alcohol thing as a lie and had a knee-jerk reaction to it.
He’s not a bad man by any standards, and isn’t that ironic?
Even good people have the power to hurt you with their actions. Maybe that’s why a lot of people look at the world through a gray haze.
Black and white doesn’t give explanations on why sometimes good people can bring you the most pain. Because you never see it coming.
“Please, let’s talk somewhere else,” he says, oblivious to Zach, and I wonder if he’s going to tell his sister. Despite my feelings, I don’t want to bring trouble to any relationship.
I just want everyone to leave me alone and find the unsub who gets off on killing women for reasons known only to him.
“There is no need for that. Sebastian, whatever we had is in the past. Don’t apologize, because it means nothing to me. Let’s just go our separate ways. Like we never existed for each other.” This was what he wanted, and besides, he’s in love.
What does he want anyway? A friendship?
I’d never be able to give him that.
“The wedding is in a month. Don’t you want to get an invitation to that? For old time’s sake?” Zachary inserts, breaking the silence settled between us, and I shift my attention to him, meeting his blazing emerald orbs head on and reply, “No. Not interested.”
He snaps his fingers at me. “Good choice, darling. I’m not going either.” My brows furrow at this, because what? Isn’t she his sister? Or isn’t there much sibling love between them all?
And how is this relevant anyway? I don’t give a shit about his family dynamics.
Huffing in exasperation and at the forming headache that might turn into a migraine if I’m not careful, I decide to end it once and for all. “Please leave, both of you. Could you at least do that for me? I’d like to never see either of you again. Don’t disturb my life with your guilt. It means nothing to me.”
With this, I smile brightly at the new customers who just walked in and hopped on a bar stool, asking, “Could we please have a bottle of wine and some nuts?”
I nod at them and take their orders, turning my back to the two men, and when I gather everything, spinning back to go to my customers, they’re gone.
Two men.
The two men who disturbed my peace are finally gone, and maybe it can be a new beginning for all three of us.
A life where we’re not connected by misery, pain, and agony.
Everyone deserves a second chance, I guess.
Although I’m not sure a monster like Zachary does.
Any woman who falls in love with him will be a fool.
For how is it possible to trust and love a man who can be so cruel?
Zachary
The minute we’re outside the bar located in the fucking outskirts of the city with nothing but old buildings around, Sebastian barks, whirling around to face me, his voice furious as if it’s supposed to do something to me, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Taking out a cigarette from the pocket of my jacket, I flick my lighter and take a greedy pull, almost groaning when the taste of nicotine touches my tongue, then puff the smoke into his face. “None of your business.”
He scowls, ripping open a few top buttons of his shirt, and points a finger at me. “It is my business.”
My brows furrow, and I ask with mocked surprise, “Is that so? Based on what grounds?”
His lips thin and his jaw tics at my words, so I decide to rub salt into the invisible wound of his that started to bleed the minute he learned the truth about Phoenix.
At least according to Lydia.
Based on reports, this fucker loved his wife as much as I did my Angelica, with the only difference that I would have stood by my wife no matter what.
“She’s not your wife anymore, Sebastian. She doesn’t want you, so you have no right to demand anything from her.” I take a longer pull. “Besides, who the fuck are you to even question what I do?”
He chuckles although it lacks any humor, his fingers lacing through his hair as he replies, “Cut this power thing, Zach. Here, you’re not my boss.”
“And I’m not acting like one. I’m acting like a man who wants a woman. And in this case, you are the man who tries to stake a claim on someone who no longer belongs to you.” I drop the butt, stepping on it. “Not to mention… aren’t you my future brother-in-law?”
“So now you care about Felicia? I thought you didn’t consider them your siblings.” Disdain coats his voice as if he can’t stand his fiancée suffering; she always calls me, inviting me to various family gatherings, and I always say no.
Based on my experience as a married man, we tend to hate anything and anyone that make our women sad.
Still though.
I don’t give a shit about it.
I shrug. “We’re not, but she’s a King. And no one cheats on the Kings.” Even though I say the words, I know they reek of bullshit.
Part of me, the one I forbade a long time ago to show its head due to the consequences it always brought to my life, doesn’t want Felicia to suffer or be anyone’s second best.
She is a bubbly girl who loves her art and Sebastian to pieces, always doting on the guy whenever I see them. She looks at the world through rose-colored glasses and lives in her make-believe perfect world.
“I have to talk to her. I need to explain,” Sebastian says, dropping the subject of his engagement, and I allow him that. Then he steps back as confusion flashes on his face. “Acting like a man who wants a woman,” he repeats my words. “You want Phoenix?”
The beast inside me roars at the possessive edge he adds to her name, as if she is his, yet he gave up on her a long time ago.
Phoenix and Emmaline will never, ever belong to Sebastian again, and if I have to be a cruel bastard to achieve that?
So fucking be it.
The screeching of a car stopping abruptly by the bar doesn’t let me put him back in his place, and a woman gets out, her heels clicking loudly on the con
crete as she runs toward us, worry evident on her features.
Felicia.
I should have known she’d trail after Sebastian, especially now. The girl was obsessed before, but with his ex on the loose?
It’s a wonder Sebastian isn’t wearing a leash on his neck or has a tracking device attached to his car.
“Honey!” she exclaims, circling her arms around him and squeezing him tight. “This’s where you are. I wondered what you were doing here.” She then leans back and dashes toward me, and I don’t have time to avoid her fucking hug, her perfume enveloping me in her presence, and then she smiles at me. “I didn’t know you were with Zach.” Relief rings in her words, but I don’t comment on that or disavow her of her illusions.
Until Sebastian actually crosses the line, I’ll never tell her about what happened tonight.
If he does though and tries to put a hand on Phoenix and walks over Felicia?
All bets are off.
I will fucking destroy him to the point he’ll have to scrape his remains from the sidewalk with his reputation in tatters.
“How are you, big brother?” she asks happily and then glances between us, probably noticing the tension, but decides not to pay attention to it.
“We just had a meeting here regarding the Smith deal,” Sebastian says smoothly, wrapping his hand around her waist, and his gaze softens on her when he tugs on one of her locks. “I was headed home.”
“That’s great. Although this is a weird place for that.” She looks around but then zeroes her focus back on me. “I have a gallery show soon. Would you like to come?” She doesn’t wait for me to accept or decline the invitation; she waves her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’ll send you an invite anyway, and I’d be happy to see you.”
“Right,” I say and hold Sebastian’s stare as I add, “The meeting’s over.”
Felicia claps her hands. “Great. I have a surprise waiting for you at home,” she tells Sebastian and drags him by the elbow to the running car. “Your evenings belong to me, Mr. Lawyer.”